The Final Wars
by Evildude915
Summary: As the Lich King awakens, the final battle draws near. will the races of Azeroth realize the threat before it's too late?


**OMG such a dark story, i can be sooo depressing at times. don't worry, the next chapter will be more jolly(ish)**

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Icecrown, Northrend, eight weeks earlier.

Icecrown is not merely cold; it is not just snowy or wrought with blizzard. It is solid ice. A huge glacier that fell from the sky landed in this area, causing the break between the three continents of Eastern kingdoms, Kalimdor and Northrend. The past of this area is unknown. For as long as the locals remember, the area has been desolate. Nothing grows there, so no one can make a living. Thus by the cycle, nothing lives. However, since the Lich King's arrival twenty years ago, the icy wasteland of Icecrown has been teeming with the undead hordes of the scourge. Their numbers here are so huge that even the Scarlet fanatics do not dare venture here, even as the Lich King Arthas slumbers.

Deep within Icecrown lies a huge citadel, the stronghold of the Lich King. Within this force of darkness sleep thousands of ghouls, abominations and the like, awaiting the awakening of their dark master.

The Bronze Dragonflight, an organisation dedicated to the protection of life and the preservation of time, have done all possible to prevent the Lich King's awakening, for, as all who had witnessed the horrors of the scourge know, this would mean that the undead horde would sweep across Azeroth, a force which life has little hope of withstanding.

However, this fate can only be delayed. The awakening of the scourge is an event that _must_ occur. The Dragonflight have only been attempting to hold this fate off until the Horde and the Alliance realise their woes. However, twenty years have passed, and still pointless battles which merely consume men and lead to no advance on any fronts continue.

They have had their time to prepare. Countless warnings have been made by agents across the world. What they do now is in their own hands.

Then, cracks appear in the Lich King's icy tomb. The once dead eyes come to life in a flashing cold blue light. The prison shatters, like a snake shedding its skin.

"_I AM REBORN!"_

With these ghostly words, all the tombs in Icecrown citadel broke.

**Dragonblight, Northrend, six weeks earlier **

Dragonblight. The home of the Protodragons, the hyper-evolved relatives of the dragonkin, also known as the ice dragons. The harsh environment of this land caused the Protodragons of Dragonblight to go into an accelerated state if evolution.

However, the Protodragons have all either died or gone into hibernation, leaving their homeland to fare on its own.

For the first time in hundreds of years, a boot lands on the snowy plains of Dragonblight. However, this boot is not that of a Vrykul, a nomad race descended from giants that, like the Protodragons, fell into an advanced state of evolution in order to cope with the extreme conditions of Northrend. It is that of a Human shell, a monster that had traded his soul long ago in return for power. That is the state of the Lich King.

Although he had never been to Dragonblight before, he knew which peak he had been looking for. It had entombed within it the remains of Frostwhisper, the strongest of Protodragons. However, the bane of the Vrykul was long dead. Its carcass now belonged to the Lich King. Or at least, it soon would.

First, though, he had to find it. According to the records, Frostwhisper had met its demise on the west peak. However as he approached, the Lich King realized that there was a _lot_ of western slopes. He decided to try the one with the steepest peak first.

A shard of the Icecrown glacier had broken off into Dragonblight, causing the forming of this huge mountain in the middle of a flatland. It was not surprising, then, when the mountain turned out to be ice merely covered in snow.

The Lich King paused in the middle of the icy cliff, bending down to wipe away the snow. If he could smile or be triumphant, he would have. It didn't look like much, but something big _was_ down there. Standing, he drew his runeblade, Frostmourne.

Because he hadn't used it in over twenty years, its runepower was hard to tap into at first. However, before long the Raising rune was in full effect. That was where he ran out of ideas. Raising a corpse was easy. Raising a corpse entombed in ice was more difficult because the blade had to touch the corpse. However, the thought of having a being such as Frostwhisper under his domination was that of which he actually decided to improvise, going against everything in his training. Raising his sword, he plunged Frostmourne into the ice.

The exhilarating flow of sheer power that rushed through his body was tremendous. The huge gale blew all the snow off the ice. Then, something stirred. A fierce and fiery presence that had not existed for hundreds, maybe thousands of years suddenly lit up. The ice was breaking around the Lich King's feet. Huge skeletal wingtips broke the ice and clawed a grip on what little ice remained. Then, the wingtips pushed the rest of the body up.

As the Lich invaded his mind, he saw sheer bloodlust; the desire to kill, kill everyone in Northrend, starting with the fool who awoke him. He saw that then it would move on to annihilate the world, destroying everything that got in its way. He realized that this lust would increase it's ferocity in battle _if_ he managed to overcome the blind yet strong natural urge to _destroy_, to _survive,_ to _not_ be a pawn of nature and time again. It was the urge to forge a living, no matter the cost, even if he had to forge it with the lives of innocents.

The Lich King decided to _never_ think that dragons had no intelligence.

_What are emotions? Pity is for the weak. Only the merciless can hope to survive._

The Lich never felt pity. He would cleanse the world of the living. The living were impure. They housed emotions.

He forced his mind into the undead Protodragon's willpower. Now that he had found and awakened it, he _would_ control it. Despite its greatest efforts, the corpse's willpower was too weak to withstand the domination of the Lich King. The familiar icy blue fire that marked the will of the Lich King fired up in its skull. Then it proceeded to spread through the body.

Walking up to the beast, he put his hand on its head. "_Your soul is mine!"_

**Naxxramas, above Eastern Plaguelands, five weeks earlier.**

The slaughter houses of Naxxramas were silent. The Death Knight's quarter no longer rung with the sound of runeblades clashing against Sardonite armour as the commanders of his legion tried restlessly to prove themselves over each other by combat. Never before was Naxxramas as quiet as it is now. The Lich had been defeated by the Argent Dawn fools. Arthas snorted. If he had known that defeat would come to him so easily he would never have let him command Naxxramas in his absence. The fool couldn't even defend a legion of Death Knights and undead. At least the main forces had not been damaged, or else Arthas was certain the scourge would never have recovered from such a loss.

Charging up his runeblade, the Lich King sent a probing ray through the empty halls. What he saw was promising. The keeper of the abominations, Patchwerk, had survived along with 10,000 abominations. Baron Rivendare had managed to put almost all of his Death Knights in stasis before his demise. The dragons of Naxxramas merely needed a shot of shadow energy to re-awaken. The slaughter house still held thousands, maybe tens of thousands of zombies.

Arthas was amused. The raid on Naxxramas has barely scratched the surface of the horror that was the giant Netropolis.

He sent out a different wave this time. A wave to awaken Naxxramas.

"_**Hear me, legions of the Scourge! Awaken and serve your master! We have work to be done!"**_

The first to heed the call were the death knights. Then, Naxxramas awakened fully.

The first to approach him was Darien Morgraine. "My lord, what are your orders?" he asked.

"Prepare to move. We're taking Naxxramas to Northrend." Arthas commanded, to the obvious confusion of Morgraine.

"But Naxxramas was intended to be the platform of our assault on Azeroth! Why are we…" he started to protest.

"Naxxramas is compromised," Arthas cut him off. "if they managed to get into Naxxramas, they can do it again. Instead of scrapping the Netropolis idea though, we're going to create a new one. A stronger one. And through this new harbour of death we shall destroy the world!" he declared, to the cheering of the other Death Knights. "And we shall call this new palace of despair Archerus!"

**New Avalon town hall, Eastern Plaguelands, Five days earlier**

"I hereby declare this meeting of the New Avalon representatives open." Mayor Quimby, mayor of New Avalon declared.

In a instant the room was filled with the sounds of protests from every single representative.

"Why are you refusing to accept the fact that we cannot hope to win against the Death Knight's of Archerus?!"

"We were better off going to the Argent Dawn asking for help!"

"We must stay true to the light, my children. Our victory over Naxxramas means tha-" he tried to say, but was cut off.

"Naxxramas is gone. _So what??_ Archerus is here now and their Death Knights are killing _everyone_!"

"The scarlet Crusade will protect us from the darkness by-"

"By what? Running away by the sea? Where are those ships going, Quimby? We deserve to know the truth!"

"That information is strictly classified-"

"You want classified?" one woman in black demanded. "I'll _give_ you classified. When the Scourge attacked Havenshire, I was pregnant. I already had three babies to look after. When the Death Knights arrived in town, one of them entered my house. My husband tried to protect us by holding him off. The Death Knight killed him. Then, he raised his body as a zombie and made it attack _us_. I lost my husband, two of my children, my home, _everything_" and with that, she burst into tears and fled from the room. She, and 555 others who fled to the Argent Dawn Base of Light's Hope Chapel, were the only survivors out of a population of about 9,900.

"We all sympathize with Ms. Redpath, and we pray for her husband's deliverance to the light, but I cannot give you information on the destination of those ships-" he tried to say, but was once more cut off by angry protests.

In the back of the room, a pair of Scarlet commanders conferred in whispers. "It would appear that overweight fool no longer has control over the masses." One said.

"Aye." The other replied. "We can't hold much longer against the ghouls that attack the gates. The moment the Death Knights get involved, New Avalon is lost."

"We'd better start the final preparations, then. We have to be out in open sea by dawn."

"Better get to the ships, then. I'll see you in Northrend."

"What do we do about the mayor? He knows too much…"

"Let him face the Scourge on his own."

"But-"

"If you really want, we can load as many people we can onto the ships as soon as possible."

And so it was that another 500 men, women and children (Most of the population of New Avalon) survived the onslaught.

However, it was already too late for the council. Fifteen minutes after the evacuation had secretly taken place, a Death Knight Vanguard walked in.

"_**MONSTER"**_

"_**WHY? WHY DO YOU DO THIS?"**_

"_**THEY PROMISED WE WOULD BE SAFE…"**_

"_**YOU DON'T HAVE TO DO THIS! NOBODY HAS TO DIE!**_"

"_You_ decided this fate yourselves by trusting those scarlet dogs!" the Death Knight cut off.

Quimby looked shocked "how? The walls…unbreakable…they promised…"

"Those scarlets said a _lot_ to you." The Death Knight remarked. "Well, I'll give you your reason for defeat. Casualties. As Scarlet Crusaders died, the survivors took them behind enemy lines to bury them. What they didn't know is that each zombie carries the plague. Anything it killed will eventually rise up under the raiser's command. Suddenly, we had a mini-army behind the gates…"

"Guards! To arms! To arms!"

"They're all dead; dead, or gone to Northrend with most of the population." He smirked. "Oops. Guess they forgot about you…"

As he realized the fact that he was doomed, Quimby's eyes widened. "No! Please! Don't kill me! I have information…"

The Death Knight shrugged. "If it's their location you're talking about, I found _that_ out ages ago. Begging won't save you."

The explosion rocked the building foundations.


End file.
